It's July 1996. What would have been considered a mild, British summer's day has chilled off decidedly. Darkness has settled across the vast and eerily peaceful grounds of Malfoy Manor, deep in the heart of the Wiltshire countryside.
It's a little before midnight. From the gardens, a single dim yet undeniably unextinguished light is visible, glinting against its canvas of the black night sky.
Inside, Draco Malfoy sits alone on his bedroom floor in the grandiosity of his tenth-century home, knees tucked to chest, back against his bed, eyes glassed over as he considers the events that have led up to this moment.
He may be safe between the four walls of the bedroom he's known since childhood, but he now bears a weight on his shoulders beyond his years; a weight no child should have to carry.
It's been a little over six hours and the throbbing in his left forearm is yet to subside.
At just sixteen years of age, Draco has never much been one to take physical pain in his stride - but this time it's different. He's the man of the house now, and with that role comes responsibility. He's prepared to accept that - and today he's proved as much to those who didn't think he'd have the stomach.
Concealed beneath the sleeve of his robes, black ink in the form of a skull and snake has seeped into his pale skin.
He's branded for life, yet Draco hasn't quite grasped the enormity of the situation he's found himself ensnared in. As of today, he is the Death Eaters' youngest ever recruit.
With his father under lock and key - and the watchful eyes of the dementors - he's been entrusted with a special mission.
That doddering old fool, Dumbledore's life now lies in his hands.
Draco's eyes fall closed for a brief moment, snapping back open when a jubilant realisation washes over him.
For years, Harry Potter has been seen - in the eyes of many - to possess power and talent in equal measure to that of the Dark Lord. And now the Dark Lord himself has placed faith in Draco, believing him capable of taking out - what Draco doesn't care to admit to be - one of the world's most capable wizards.
With the deeply rooted confidence of a privileged, pure-blooded boy, brought up never to question his position in the upper echelons of wizarding society, Draco believes he can do this. And when he succeeds, the Malfoy name will be restored in the eyes of the Dark Lord.
Draco and his family will reclaim their rightful place amongst the ranks: feared and respected as the Dark Lord's most faithful and trusted allies. And he'll have been the one to make it happen.
"I can do this." A quiet yet unfaltering reminder to himself that he's capable.
He may be young, but his magical abilities far outstrip those of most of his peers. He's just never been given the opportunity to prove it. Until now.
He peels back his sleeve gingerly; the cold air kisses his Mark. Draco winces at the unpleasant sensation that shoots sharply through his veins.
His fingers tremble ever so slightly as they dance uncertainly over his freshly inked skin. His breath hitches. He exhales slowly in an attempt to calm the sudden nerves that sweep through him, that wrack the very bones of him.
It's going to be difficult keeping the Mark away from prying eyes when term begins, but it shouldn't be for long. A month, two at most. After that, life as everyone knows it is sure to change. That much, he's confident of.
Hastily, he shakes his sleeve back down, deeply unaware of any future ramifications of taking the Dark Mark.
To be trusted by the Dark Lord is the very highest form of glory and it's his to savour. It's this very thought Draco uses to push any inconvenient and unwarranted fear to the back of his mind.
He smirks as his thoughts turn to all those who have ever doubted him... those who have mocked him; humiliated him.
He is Draco Malfoy and he is going to show the world exactly what he is capable of.
Authors note: Welcome to the first of who knows how many one-shots there will be in this series - small snippets of Draco's life that I still feel the need to share. Each will be accompanied by my thoughts, and perhaps some head canons that have shaped my writing.
For me, 'Glory' finds Draco already terrified of what he's got himself into, even at this early stage in his journey - but he is absolutely unwilling to admit this to himself, instead concentrating on the glory and status it will bring him and his family. There is a part of him that truly believes the dark glamour of this lifestyle is for him. (Don't forget, this is at the very beginning of HBP, before his idea of the world and his place in it are damaged almost beyond repair.) The question is, does he really believe himself capable of taking another human's life? I feel, at this point, that he does - simply because he's convinced himself not to think about it too deeply. A classic case of burying one's head in the sand, you could say. What do you think?